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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359615">Tattoo Your Name Across My Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadefenders/pseuds/akadefenders'>akadefenders</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Means of Possession [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, Literary References &amp; Allusions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Romance, Spanking, Tattoos, Top Will Graham</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:01:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadefenders/pseuds/akadefenders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Will is going to come with him with his secret when he wants to and Hannibal can be patient. He knows the depths of his patience now. He waited for three years, like Penelope after Odysseus, waiting for Will to return to him. A few hours or even days here and now does not mean much to him. He is content to wait for Will whenever he has to because he knows Will will always return. They are like binary stars, never able to go far from each other, never able to be flung out of orbit. The mass of their connection has forged them with an irreplaceable gravity."</p><p>A story of love, marriage and possession.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Means of Possession [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will has been quiet through dinner. Quiet yet not unkind, not elusive. He still smiles at Hannibal, compliments his cooking, and sips his wine with appreciation. After close to a year of intimate cohabitation, Hannibal can tell what Will's silences mean. Usually. He is aware now, more than ever, of Will's hidden depths, of his wondrous unpredictability. But for now, Hannibal can tell with some degree of certainty that there is something he is keeping a secret. He and Will have had no secrets between them since the night on the bluff. There are still some things that are unspoken, rooms in their memory palaces that belong solely to them, but they no longer keep pertinent things from each other. Some part of Hannibal rankles at this - he wants to know every single part of Will that there is to know, to crawl in between his synapses and lay down between his thoughts. But since he himself has hidden parts of himself away from the world, he can hardly ask Will to show him his without a tinge of hypocrisy. </p><p>But tonight, the silence isn't just ringing with words that have been swallowed along with the gently cooked sea bass that Will caught earlier in the day. It is also permeated with a hum of anticipation. So Hannibal waits, lets his expression sit open and gentle so Will knows that he knows something is unsaid and is content in Will's reticence. Will is going to come with him with his secret when he wants to and Hannibal can be patient. He knows the depths of his patience now. He waited for three years, like Penelope after Odysseus, waiting for Will to return to him. A few hours or even days here and now do not mean much to him. He is content to wait for Will whenever he has to because he knows Will will always return. They are like binary stars, never able to go far from each other, never able to be flung out of orbit. The mass of their connection has forged them with an irreplaceable gravity.</p><p>On days that Will fishes, Hannibal sets aside whatever organs he has in the freezer and reconfigures his plans to accommodate the catch. He always tries new recipes, uncommon ones that neither he nor Will have tried. It is a challenge and one he thoroughly enjoys. In time he has realised that Will is not particularly interested in food but is always happy when Hannibal cooks for him. It brings him immense joy to know that a part of his labours, a part of his love, enters Will daily and lives within him, nourishing him. </p><p>Once their plates are clean and the food is gone, Hannibal takes their plates and returns with dessert - a bergamot parfait with orange jelly and chocolate orange mousse. He watches as Will scrapes every last piece off the plate with satisfaction. When the dessert, too, is gone, Will takes the plates and shoos Hannibal to the parlour, asking him to pour him a glass of whiskey and wait for him there. He does as he is told and listens to Will do the dishes with practiced motions. He is then surprised as he hears Will climb the stairs to their room instead of entering the parlour. He doesn't have to wait much longer however as Will enters the parlour a minute later, with a box in his hand. </p><p>"Dalmore Single Highland Malt Scotch," he says as Will enters, choosing not to address the proverbial elephant in the room. </p><p>"Thank you," murmurs Will, setting the box down on the low glass table. He then takes off his shoes and socks, setting them beside the couch and sits down on the plush carpet in front of the fireplace, wiggling his toes into the soft texture. Hannibal is momentarily arrested by this but quickly blinks himself out of it. The image of Will making himself at home in their shared space will never not move him to devotion. <em> Mine </em> he thinks. <em> Ours </em>he thinks again, looking once about the room. He hides a triumphant smile by taking a sip of the scotch. </p><p>Will is quiet again, staring at the flames then staring at the hand holding his scotch. Hannibal feels the familiar itch of wanting to get inside Will's skull and pushes it away. Today, he no longer needs a bone saw. He can simply ask and Will will give him what he wants. It is a remarkable power that Will has over him but he cannot bring himself to feel upset. Will's power and control, even over him, is beautiful. He is wild and perfect.</p><p>"I love you," Will says suddenly. He has said it before and will in most likelihood say it again but to Hannibal, each time is a gift. He files it away in a room he has dedicated just to Will's expressions of love to be examined at a later notice. This time Will says it with conviction, a matter of fact tone, and a glance into Hannibal's eyes. He does not smile but his eyes are tender and deep, like the Atlantic, like falling. Hannibal cannot control whatever facial expression crosses his face but whatever it is causes Will's face to soften even further so once again, he cannot bring himself to be upset at his own loss of control. He finds his person suit comes apart at the seams when it is faced by Will. </p><p>"And I love you," he replies after a moment. His own declaration comes out a little stoic, having taken a few precious seconds to ensure his voice doesn't shake. Will seems to see through that, smiling at him openly now. A thrill travels down Hannibal's spine. Will always sees through him. He feels pinned like a dragonfly to a board. </p><p>"What are your thoughts on marriage?" </p><p>Hannibal's thoughts grind to a halt. Will was staring at his hands before. Will loves him. Will has been keeping a secret. Will has a box. It is not a ring box yet a box all the same. His response is automatic. </p><p>"Are you proposing?" </p><p>"I want to know your thoughts on the institution," says Will. Hannibal must look a little put out at this so he continues, "I am not avoiding your question, I promise. I simply wish to know your opinion first. You can be cynical to the rituals of the pigs around you and marriage is unquestionably one of them. Yet, you in some ways are a romantic and you want to possess me just as I wish to possess you. So, I ask once again, what are your thoughts on marriage?" </p><p>There are a million ways to answer this question. Hannibal rifles through all of them in a second then says the most honest thing he can say.</p><p>"Marriage can be a convenient way to merge finances, remove legal culpability, start and bind a family. I have had no interest in it the majority of my life. Whatever married people have, we already have. You and I have had each other for better and for worse - we bring those parts out in each other. For richer and for poorer, surviving only on whatever fish we caught on a small boat, cut off from the rest of the world. In sickness and health, providing a little of each to one another. I love and I cherish you and one year ago we committed to a life together till death do us part. In some ways, we are already married." </p><p>Will's facial expression is unreadable. </p><p>"But if I was to marry anyone Will, in the traditional sense, I would marry you. Only you." </p><p>Will turns to face Hannibal who is sitting on the couch and slides the box over to him. When he opens it, Hannibal cannot see inside but then Will removes a ring box. It is black and velvet. Will leans up on one knee and opens the box. The ring is a solid gold but Hannibal can see engraving on the inside. He looks down at Will's face and can feel his eyes start to glisten with tears. Never. He never thought he could have this. </p><p>"I love you," Will repeats, softly this time. "I know I can live without you, I simply don't want to. You want to possess me and I want to give you everything which is mine to give. I want to eat the first cut of your meat, drink the first sip of your wine. I want your name to be the last thing I say before I sleep and the first thing I say after I wake. I will be your shield and your sword. You are my equal, Hannibal. I have never had someone like you before. You see all of me and love all of me, even the parts I don’t love myself. No one else can ever compare. Please do me the honour of being my husband. Please marry me."</p><p>At the end of his speech, Will licks his lips and Hannibal's mouth is unaccountably dry. He cannot find any words in that moment. Nothing will suffice. Nothing can express the depth of his love. He speaks more languages than most people will learn in a lifetime yet no word in any language is enough. So he answers in the most predictable way possible.</p><p>"Yes." </p><p>He leans down and kisses Will. The first kiss is a firm press of his lips. His hands slide around Will's face, cradling his cheek, stroking over his newly healed scar and his ear as his fingers tangle into Will's soft hair. The second kiss is longer, their lips lingering over each other. He wants to keep going but Will gently separates them, leaning their foreheads together, their breaths puffing against each other. Will takes his left hand, tangling their fingers together and brings it down between them. He kisses Hannibal's knuckles and he cannot help but close his eyes, content and overwhelmed. </p><p>"No," says Will. "Open them." </p><p>Hannibal obeys. Will slides the ring on his finger. </p><p>"What does it say?" </p><p>"Amor vincit omnia. Fitting, don't you think? Our love has conquered all." </p><p>"It is perfect Will. You are perfect."</p><p>Hannibal pulls Will up until he is beside him on the couch. He holds Will's left hand in his own and watches the way the firelight reflects off his ring. He has worn a ring before, with Bedelia in Florence. It had meant nothing then, just another prop for his person suit, easily discarded when the time came. This ring has a similar weight to the one he wore before yet it feels like so much more. It carries the weight of their past, the many machinations that were undertaken to get them here, but also the hope for their future. He knows immediately he will never take it off. He imagines it covered in blood as his hands reach into an abdomen to extract an organ. He imagines it covered in sweat and lube, his fingers buried deep in Will. He imagines the noise it will make as his hands scrape the headboard when Will is inside him. He imagines how it will look beside the ring he is going to give to Will to wear. Gold to match and an inscription of his own. He smiles.</p><p>When he looks up, he finds that Will isn't looking at their joined hands but at Hannibal's face, a fondness in his eyes like he can read Hannibal's thoughts. </p><p>"You do realise now that we have proven Freddie Lounds right? We are going to become murder husbands."</p><p>Will pulls a disgusted face and Hannibal cannot help but laugh.</p><p>"Don't ruin the mood by bringing her up Hannibal," says Will, cracking a smile of his own.</p><p>"Apologies, Will," says Hannibal amusedly. "What else is in the box?" </p><p>Will's expression grows serious. The most serious it has been all night. Hannibal straightens up at it, confused. Surely the most momentous part of the night is over. Unless Will has more than one secret of course.</p><p>For one moment he entertains the idea that Will has a human heart in the box for him. It would be romantic, like the human heart he left for Will in Palermo. He imagines the two of them cooking it together. But the notion leaves him as quickly as it came. He would have smelled the blood, the ring box would not have escaped unscathed, and most importantly, Will does not hunt alone. Neither of them do anymore, partners in everything. He tries not to be disappointed. </p><p>"I want to marry you," says Will. </p><p>"Yes Will," says Hannibal with a smile. "You made that perfectly clear." </p><p>Will rolls his eyes. Rude. Impertinent. Insolent. <em> Mine</em>. </p><p>"I mean that I, Will Graham, want to marry you, Hannibal Lecter. I don't want Jason Williams to marry Armand Kore." </p><p>"My love..." Hannibal hesitates. He wants to give Will everything but this is not something he can easily manage. Perhaps they could steal away to America and kidnap a marriage registrar and get married that way. Everyone would know then that Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter were alive but it could be a risk they could take. They would book return flights and leave before they got caught. He might have to kill Molly Foster to end her marriage with Will first which would make him angry but would expedite any tedious divorce proceedings. It was an inadvisable but achievable idea. </p><p>"Stop," says Will with a laugh. "Whatever ridiculous plan you have concocted is not necessary." </p><p>"You don't even know what I was thinking," protests Hannibal. </p><p>"I know what you were thinking," says Will gently, "because I've had all the thoughts you are having now in the past."</p><p>"We're conjoined," Hannibal murmurs. He thinks of a mobius strip. Where did Will start and Hannibal end? Where were their edges? They were a twisted thing of remarkable properties. He wishes he could kill them both and display them, their ribcages pressing into one another, their arms and legs switched, their skulls moulded together, hand in hand. It is, of course, impossible, which is a shame. Perhaps he will sketch it later.</p><p>"Yes we are. And we are at an advantage right now - we have been declared dead. We cannot make any mistakes and break the peace of the life we've built. I won't allow it Hannibal. I don't want much but I want a honeymoon phase at the very least. Some time with my fiancé." </p><p>"I will give you whatever you want Will," Hannibal promises. </p><p>"Be careful what you promise Hannibal," Will replies, the serious look returning to his eyes. </p><p>"What's in the box Will?" </p><p>Will looks into his eyes, searching for something. He must find it because he leans forwards and retrieves the box, finally revealing its remaining contents to Hannibal.</p><p>There is black ink of some sort, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a box of sterile gloves, a set of four long needles, antiseptic cream and sterile bandages. </p><p>"I want us to get married with our real names. But we can't. Legally, I am still married for one and we are fugitives from the law. I don't know what our lives will be like but given our...proclivities I don't see us growing old together. Rings can come off, handcuffs can be placed on but ink is forever." </p><p>Will is vulnerable right now, Hannibal realises. More than when he was proposing. This means something to him. </p><p>"Have you ever gotten or given a tattoo before, Will?" </p><p>He shakes his head, still staring at the box, unable or unwilling to meet Hannibal's eyes. </p><p>"Have you?" </p><p>"It has never been something I have wanted," answers Hannibal honestly. </p><p>"Just like marriage?" </p><p>"Just so." </p><p>"And now?" </p><p>"What would we be tattooing?" </p><p>At this Will looks up. Hannibal realises Will expected a worse reaction. Not a cautious and pragmatic response but derision or disgust. It reassures him that he can still surprise Will. It annoys him that Will could think Hannibal would find any side of him anything less than beautiful. That he could feel anything less than curiosity at Will’s motives and actions.</p><p>"Our initials. On each other. On the ring finger where the ring will go."</p><p>The idea sparks something in him. The intimacy of the act, the blood that would rise from Will at his hands. His name, his claim on Will, forever. There for everyone to see. If they were ever captured or arrested, their belongings would be confiscated, their tattoos catalogued. Everyone would see who Will belonged to. His old wedding ring would be gone, replaced with a better, more intimate, more expensive one. And Hannibal's name would be part of his body forever. Conjoined.</p><p>He cannot help but snarl at this and surges forward to kiss Will. A soft noise of surprise escapes Will. His hands grasp Hannibal's shoulders and Hannibal slides his underneath Will's thighs, pulling him up and onto his lap with a passion he cannot control. The kiss is plundering. Will moans and Hannibal swallows it, suddenly frantic. His hands find Will's hips and he grinds up into him. Will detaches from his mouth as he gasps. </p><p>Hannibal wastes no time and attaches himself behind Will's ear, presses kisses as he squeezes over Will's ass in his trousers. The weight of him, the heat, the smell of his skin clean from the shower, no aftershave to be found. It all intoxicates Hannibal. Will's skin is soft on his neck, under his lips. He leaves marks blooming like cherry blossoms as Will's fingers mess up his hair and scratch up his back underneath his sweater. </p><p>"Hannibal," says Will shakily, with a huffing laugh. "Hannibal, does this mean you agree to the tattoos?" </p><p>Hannibal pulls back to look at Will. He looks debauched, his lips are pink and pretty and swollen. There is a blush high on each sculpted cheekbone and Hannibal gets the urge to get up and find his sketchbook so he can memorialise this forever. But that would mean disengaging from Will and the entire idea is utterly absurd. </p><p>"Of course, my love. I will always want to leave my marks on you and this is by far the most painless method we have tried so far." </p><p>Will chuckles. </p><p>"Yes certainly less painful than the marks I have on me already."</p><p>Hannibal thumbs the scar on Will's forehead and feels a twinge of regret and fear. If he had eaten Will that day, he would never have gotten to have this. He feels a certain disgust whenever he thinks of Mason Verger but for his interference in Florence he is grateful. Losing Will would have been catastrophic, even if he would have tasted delicious. Hannibal would have been sated yet truly alone. </p><p>He presses a kiss over the scar in silent apology and Will strokes his fingers along the scars Matthew Brown gave him on his wrists. Apology accepted and reciprocated. </p><p>"Let's do the tattoos tomorrow. I want the surety of daylight and you to sleep on it." </p><p>"Once I have made a decision, I am not likely to change it Will. Especially one that excites me so." </p><p>"I know," says Will. "I know it excites you. Bedelia told me once that it excited you to know you had marked me." </p><p>"How perceptive of her," Hannibal muses. </p><p>"I'd still like to wait," says Will and then blushes, looking away. "Once we have been tattooed, our hands will have to stay away from any bodily fluids," he continues. "I don’t want to deal with any infections. As for tonight, I for one would like to have some engagement sex." </p><p>At this he looks up at Hannibal from underneath his curls and Hannibal's heart hammers against his chest. He wonders if it will burst out and lay itself at Will's feet. He wonders if Will would take a bite out of it if it did. </p><p>He feels the love for this man all over his body. God is a cruel thing but he has given him Will Graham. For that alone, he understands the power of the divine. He can want for nothing anymore. There is no greater peace to be had or ecstasy to be felt. If whatever Hannibal has done in the past is a crime then it is not a serious one if he is to be rewarded in this way.</p><p>The love of Will Graham is a benediction, and one he is eager to claim for his own. Forever. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Porn in the next chapter, so if you don't want to read that then stop right here! All my love to Isa, whose conversations helped me come up with this idea! The title is from Sweet Dreams by Beyoncé.</p><p>Come follow me on tumblr @snailmailthings <a href="http://www.snailmailthings.tumblr.com">here</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He stands, arms around Will who yelps and tightens his legs around Hannibal's waist so he doesn't fall to the ground. Silently he walks through the house, up the stairs and into their bedroom as Will takes advantage of Hannibal's concentration in manoeuvring them unscathed and mouths at his neck, leaving marks of his own. </p><p>Possession is written into every line of their body and clothes come off at a rapid pace. Hannibal remains startlingly aware of it all, the buttons on Will’s shirt, the zip on his slacks, the cotton of his undershirt, the silk of his boxer briefs. Will on the other hand seems far more frenzied than he is. Hannibal’s clothes come off in fits and starts as Will attaches himself to whatever piece of skin gets revealed. He pinches and rubs and sucks on Hannibal’s nipples, bites under his pectorals, and scratches through his chest hair. When his shirt comes off, he leaves bruises on Hannibal's collarbone and licks a stripe up his sternum. When his pants come off, his hip bones are scraped with Will’s teeth until they are tender and he is pushed on the bed.</p><p>Will sucks more bruises than he can count onto the soft skin of his inner thighs. Hannibal reaches down to touch himself but before he can wrap a hand around his cock, Will’s hands grab his wrists and pin them to his side.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” he says fiercely. Hannibal can only nod mutely.<br/>
<br/>
Will is reverent as he kisses the bullet scar left by Dolarhyde. He traces the ragged ridges of the wound and presses his tongue, laving over it as though he can erase another man’s claim on Hannibal’s body through touch and taste alone. He kisses the soft swell of his stomach that sometimes makes Hannibal feel self-conscious and bites in several places. He tongues Hannibal’s belly button and scratches down his side as Hannibal shudders. He traces soft kisses down to the join between thigh and groin and just breathes, air ghosting over the curling hair that lies there. Just when he feels like he can’t take it any longer, Will separates from him entirely. </p><p>He can’t help it. He cries out, bereft, abandoned. But he doesn’t move his hands.</p><p>“Shh shh shh,” says Will, returning with a bottle of lube and petting Hannibal’s thigh in a strong stroking motion that settles him. The sight of him above Hannibal is more arousing than anything else. More nourishing than anything else.</p><p>He kisses Hannibal as he grabs his hands and places them above him, touching the headboard. He traces the ring on his left hand, trails his fingers down Hannibal’s wrists, once again stroking the scars there, and squeezes his biceps until he has goosebumps. Then he thumbs over his bottom lip, pushing and bending it. Now it is his turn to be kissed like there is no tomorrow. He gives as good as he gets until air is sparse and his head is spinning. Will gives him a chance to take one gasping breath then dives back in. </p><p>He desperately wants to touch Will, to leave more marks on his body and leave him scratched and bloody but when Will gets like this, Hannibal enjoys his control too much to defy him. Surrender is a beautiful thing that he only enjoys with Will, that he is only capable of giving to Will. The only person he has met in his life who is truly his equal. He could experience this with no one else. Will’s body touches him all over, a fire ignited deep within him that burns wherever they join. He is utterly overwhelmed by sensation. He can smell Will from the curls that cascade over his face, his scent mixing with sweat and sex and Hannibal. It is intoxicating. He feels lost and found all at once.</p><p>But then one slick finger finds its way to his groin, traces down his cock from tip to root, past his balls, underneath to his perineum and massages. He bites back a moan as his eyes snap open. He doesn’t even know when he closed them. His breath shudders out of him as Will pulls back to look at his face. He wonders if he looks as debauched as Will had looked earlier. He wonders if he looks worse. Will is stunning now, his hair is all over the place and he is panting slightly. His eyes are pools of black covering the usual blue grey he so loves. And they are dark, filled with intent. It drives a shiver down his spine.</p><p>His finger moves lower until it is tracing circles around his hole. Hannibal raises his legs, bending at the knees, feet flat on the bed. He takes a deep breath and relaxes, closing his eyes and letting himself melt into the satin sheets. The second Will feels the tension leave his body he pushes in. Hannibal sighs. Finally. </p><p>Will moves the finger with deliberation, in and out, but not slowly. He has spent many nights inside Hannibal’s body and knows how to play it like Hannibal knows how to play the harpsichord. He feels the finger turn inside him and hook upwards, brushing his prostate. The groan he lets out now is loud in the room and he is momentarily embarrassed. </p><p>“Beautiful,” says Will and thumbs Hannibal cheekbone, brushing over the tiny scar that Jack left. He realises with a start that he is blushing.</p><p>The finger continues to move in him, not hitting his prostate every time but often enough that Hannibal feels brushes of pleasure in his gut. Unpredictable enough that it is unexpected and anticipated eagerly each time. With a start, he realises Will is no longer looking at his face but down where his finger enters and leaves Hannibal. The look on his face is so possessive that Hannibal has to look away. He feels raw and exposed.</p><p>“Beautiful,” says Will again.</p><p>Will removes the finger and adds more lube, and this time the finger is joined by another. Two fingers are now inside him and Will adds more force to his strokes now. He moves the fingers apart and scissors them, stretching him, making a home for himself inside Hannibal, moulding him. The touches against his prostate come more often now. Sweat beads along his hairline and his moans break into one another. His hips twitch but he does little more. <em> Will is inside me </em> he thinks with a savage joy. His mouth is open and all he can see is the concentration on Will’s face. The last time he had been so thoroughly and devotedly prepared had been their very first time. The memory brings the sting of tears to his eyes and he closes them, willing himself to calm down.</p><p>The fingers leave momentarily only to return, this time three and wet with lube yet again. The pressure now is slightly uncomfortable but it is nothing that Hannibal is not used to. But it seems that no part of Will wants any part of Hannibal to feel anything other than pleasure because he reaches down and puts his mouth on the tip of Hannibal’s dick and suckles.</p><p>“Will!” he shouts, shocked, chest heaving against the surge of pleasure. His hands twitch above him. He wants to touch Will so badly now that it is almost a physical ache. </p><p>Will moans at Hannibal’s abandon as he places one arm firmly across his abdomen, holding him in place. His lips slide down his cock, tonguing gently as his fingers continue to mercilessly torture Hannibal. Every slide in and out of him is now punctuated by touches to his prostate. Lingering ones, firm ones, massaging ones, circular ones. All the while Will sucks him down to the base of his dick, working his throat over the sensitive head of his penis. He pulls back up and tongues his foreskin, his frenulum. Hannibal feels like he is going out of his mind. Pleasure sparks from his toes to his scalp. His skin feels too tight and his head thrashes from side to side as he pants. </p><p>“Will,” he says. “Will, Will, Will.” </p><p>He knows no name other than the one on his lips. Insistent and moaning, he feels the familiar feeling within him. He is about to come. His hips jerk, his fingers and toes clench, and he lets out soft mewling sounds he knows he would be embarrassed by if he was more cognisant of his surroundings.</p><p>Will rises off his cock with an obscene pop, brushing small butterfly kisses over the turgid, sensitive skin of his penis. He places one last kiss to the base of his cock and lets go to climb up and kiss him. His fingers continue to move inside Hannibal as he claims his mouth. When he lets go, Hannibal is panting. His heart is beating at a galloping pace and he is shuddering. Will looks like the cat that got the cream. If seeing Hannibal undone was his goal then he has thoroughly achieved it.</p><p>A fourth finger circles his hole and Hannibal stills, his eyes pleading silently with Will. The finger nudges his rim and is poked through to the first knuckle. The dam breaks.</p><p>“Please Will, please, enough. I want you inside me now, please. I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much, have mercy.”</p><p>Will grins. His teeth shine in the soft lamplight. He is savage and has all the power in the room and knows it. He leans down and bites down on Hannibal’s nipple as his fingers press hard against his prostate. He cries out, the crash of pain and surge of pleasure mixing together like wine in his bloodstream. Will rises to tongue the lobe of Hannibal’s ear, the fingers of his other hand pinching the abused nipple.</p><p>“Why should I have mercy, darling, when you beg so prettily?” he whispers with cruel amusement.</p><p>Hannibal shudders. </p><p>“Please,” he says once more. </p><p>Will leans back suddenly and stares at Hannibal as though he is admiring his handiwork. Hannibal’s whole body throbs. He can feel his pulse thundering through his chest but also through every single bruise he feels on his body. Across his neck and his collarbone and his nipples and hips and stomach and thighs. He feels like one big bruise marked by Will, only a series of joins between bones and flesh, held together by his lover. Satisfaction gleams in Will’s eyes. He wants to tell him to take a picture, that it’d last longer, but realises with a flash that if he suggested that then Will might actually do it. He’s not sure how he feels about that so he remains silent, composing his face into a pleading expression.</p><p>Will’s fingers leave him and he clenches on nothing. The feeling is worse than anything. He now feels hollow and empty and the tears return inexplicably to build in his eye. But Will is thankfully not vengeful and reaches for the lube, slicking himself up. It is the first time he has been touched all night and he flinches a little, hisses at the contact, fucking into his fist a little. All of Hannibal’s focus is placed solely on the red head of his cock disappearing in and out of his fingers. His mouth waters. </p><p>Will knee walks until his hips are held in the cradle of Hannibal’s hips. He gathers Hannibal’s legs up and folds him until Hannibal is almost bent in half, his knees near his shoulders. He grunts with the stretch in his body. It is a position he is only able to hold because of the hour of yoga they have now implemented into their post recovery physical therapy routine but it is a strain all the same. Will slides his legs over his shoulder and this way they are pressed together as close as possible. The head of Will’s cock slides over his slick asshole and Hannibal groans.</p><p>“You ready baby?”</p><p>The unexpected endearment tears another groan out of him and he nods, a little frantic.</p><p>But Will is a tease and he feels his cock move up to his balls and back down to his perineum, leaving sticky trails of precum across his sensitive skin. His own cock drools a little, trapped between them. Will’s dick comes back down to his hole and circles the reddened, sensitive rim slowly until Hannibal sobs a little.</p><p>At that noise, it seems Will can no longer tease for he starts to push in, inch by inch. At the first breach Hannibal keens but the stretch keeps coming. It’s not rough but it’s not slow. If anything, it’s steady. He gives Hannibal time to adjust but knows his body intimately enough now to know he doesn’t need to wait. The preparation was thorough and Hannibal is wet enough inside to take it. When he bottoms out, Will groans shakily and Hannibal sighs in relief. Finally, he is complete. Sweat is now present on Will too, dripping down his temple. Hannibal’s tongue flicks out and he tastes it.</p><p>“Move, Will,” he says.</p><p>Will stares into his eyes, then pulls back smoothly and thrusts in. They both cry out; the friction is incredible. Will wastes no time, setting a hard and deliberate rhythm. The pace is not fast but the force is everything and Hannibal’s eyes roll back into his head. Will’s dick is larger than average and every time he enters Hannibal’s body he feels unaccountably full. Will’s hands are braced on either side of Hannibal’s head and his head is thrown back, the curve of his neck and the tendon there thrown into relief. The lamplight casts shadows across his skin, creating a chiaroscuro effect he cannot help but admire. If Will thinks he is beautiful then Hannibal has no words for what Will is. Classically handsome, strong, dark, capable, spectacular in every way. Will’s thrusts ground him in the moment, and he clenches and relaxes his hands in fits and bursts. The effort to keep them there is monumental.</p><p>Their panting breaths fit into the hot, humid space between them. Will suddenly leans back a little and slides his knees underneath Hannibal, changing the angle ever so slightly. It brings the head of his dick directly in contact with Hannibal’s prostate on the next thrust in and he thrashes with it. It feels amazing, it feels better than anything else. Better than blood on his hands, better than meat on his tongue, better than murder and manipulation. </p><p>“So hot, so tight for me,” says Will. “So good, you’re so good to me Hannibal.”</p><p>The praise crawls into him and settles under his chest. It beats through his arteries and innervates him entirely. </p><p>“Will,” he moans. “I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too,” says Will. “So much.”</p><p>His hands find their way to Hannibal’s wrists and press down into the mattress with enough force that he knows bruises will be purpling there come tomorrow. His thrusts increase in both speed and pressure and before he can understand it fully, he is being fucked into the mattress. Will’s balls smack against his ass in an added touch of sensation. He feels like he is going out of his mind. The slide of Will’s cock is the only thing that is real to him. The touch of his hands is a brand on him. His marks are going to overpower Matthew Brown’s, at least for a few days, he knows it. The thrusts are merciless and he knows he will ache when all is said and done. Will attaches his mouth to Hannibal’s jaw, suckling a kiss there that will leave another small, red mark.</p><p>He’s whispering something and Hannibal strains to hear it. He shakes his head (like a dog, his mind helpfully supplies), trying to clear it of the static he hears.</p><p>“Thought about you like this once. In a dream. Except I had tied you up. Red rope on your tan skin. You couldn’t do anything. Just lay there, pretty and bound and mine for the taking. And god did you take what I gave you.”</p><p>Hannibal shudders. Will’s voice is like honey and whiskey, darker than sin and the words he speaks are so dirty, so enticing. </p><p>“Will,” he pants. “Am I fulfilling your fantasy?”</p><p>“One of many, my love,” groans out Will, his grip tightening around Hannibal, his hips bucking harder than ever. His wrists ache from the pressure and his ass smarts from the jut of Will’s hip bones but he savours the pain. It was a gift from Will and who was he to refuse?</p><p>Suddenly Will sinks his teeth into a bite down on Hannibal’s Adam’s apple, stopping just shy of drawing blood, then soothes the imprints of his teeth with kitten licks and whispered kisses. Hannibal throws his head back, his feet digging into Will’s back, encouraging him to truly let go. To give him his all.</p><p>Will snarls. </p><p>The tempo increases and his hole is fucked out over and over and over again. His nerves are frayed. He whines as Will raises himself, removing his hands from Hannibal’s wrists. He braces himself on one hand and lays the other gently across Hannibal’s throat. The position is a dangerous one. It is not lost on him that such a vulnerable spot is in the hands of a killer and suddenly he is reminded of how hard his cock is. Will’s eyes seek permission and he moans. His fingers tighten a little. Not enough to cut off any air at all but just providing a pressure that hints at asphyxiation. The action is enough to drive Hannibal wild and his hips buck upwards to meet Will’s thrusts.</p><p>“No!” says Will firmly. “You take what I give you.”</p><p>But Hannibal can no longer control himself. His arms are sore from being in one position for so long, his whole body aches from bruises and bites, his hole is sensitive and his cock is straining to come. The hand on his throat and Will’s roughness makes his need to come insatiable. He chases Will’s cock mindlessly until he feels it. The hand on his throat is removed and comes down to slap the meat of his ass.</p><p>“I said no.”</p><p>Will’s voice is dangerous and he stops his thrusts. </p><p>Hannibal’s hips stop moving, abstaining from movement at the command. But he can’t help it. He jerks up one last time.</p><p>He feels another slap, this time on the opposite cheek.</p><p>“Don’t push me, Hannibal,” threatens Will.</p><p>He locks eyes with Will and pushes up onto his cock deliberately.</p><p>Fire sparks in Will’s eyes and he pulls out entirely, flipping Hannibal over onto his knees in one smooth movement. He pulls apart Hannibal’s cheeks with one hand and stares at his wet, twitching hole. Despite everything they have done so far, Hannibal blushes and is glad he can hide his face in his arms. Will’s cock slides back in before Hannibal can catalogue what is happening, slick with lube once more and ramming into him over and over again. It feels as though his prostate is being battered. At the same time, he feels hard slaps raining down the globes of his ass, high up at first where they meet his lower back, then further down onto where the first slaps had landed. Then lower still onto the junction of thighs and ass, and finally onto his sensitive thighs themselves. Will spanks him until he is warm and over sensitised and crying out with each slap. All the muscles on his body are clenching and unclenching, tensing and pulsing and bunching with each push pull of Will’s cock and each jostle of the hits raining on him. His cock has not been touched since the blowjob when this all began. He would have tried to rut into the sheets below but knows implicitly that it would not be allowed.</p><p>Suddenly Will’s thrusts lose their rhythm. He groans like he is in pain. Hannibal feels the sweet spot inside him get rammed with more force than ever before. One hand tangles itself into Hannibal’s hair and <em> pulls</em>. He is raised onto his elbows, back curving. </p><p>“Mine,” growls Will. “You’re mine.”</p><p>“Yours,” gasps out Hannibal. “All yours.”</p><p>“Mine to love. Mine to fuck. And mine to kill.” Each sentence is punctuated by a harsh thrust that rips moans from Hannibal’s throat. His hands press possessively over the Verger brand on his back. </p><p>“Always,” promises Hannibal. There is no other way he would want to go. No other hand he’d like to die by.</p><p>“I am yours and you are mine,” pants Will, his hips smacking into Hannibal’s ass, sending tendrils of pain where they connect over the reddened, abused flesh.</p><p>“Yes,” slurs Hannibal, tears sliding down his cheeks as the dam bursts. “Yes, Will,” he sobs.</p><p>“Say it,” demands Will, pulling his hair tighter, stinging his scalp. </p><p>“I am yours Will, and you are mine.”</p><p>“Hannibal,” groans Will and reaches underneath him to grab his cock. It doesn’t take much. Only a few pulls through Will’s lube slicked hand are enough. He comes hard, shooting through Will’s fist and soiling the sheets. The tears on his face come freely now. His orgasm has been building the whole time and he clenches, his muscles shuddering, cock and balls throbbing. He writhes under Will who is now beyond words, half-choked and wild sounds leaving his body as he shoves into Hannibal with no finesse. Using the last of his strength, he clenches around Will who lets out a strangled shout as he comes. His cock rams into his overstimulated body a few more times and Hannibal feels the wetness of Will’s come inside him. He sighs with happiness as Will pushes in one last time, shaking. </p><p>His knees give out and he topples over. Will quickly moves them onto their sides, away from the wet spot, and he lets out one more quiet sob, his brain firing at a million miles a minute. He is a flushed, trembling mess, his chest heaving as he tries to inhale lungfuls of air. He can feel Will panting behind him too, but while Hannibal is still and unable to move, Will’s hands are all over him, soothing down his spine and arms. He kisses Hannibal’s neck, no bites to be found anymore, just gentle presses of lips and tender touches. His cock is still inside Hannibal and softens rapidly. Will pulls out gently with a hiss. Hannibal twitches a little. He floats as his heart rate gentles. Everything is tingling and sore. </p><p>He smiles a little absent mindedly as he feels Will’s come rush out of him, staining him inside and out. The most intimate possession of them all. </p><p>“Good?” asks Will.</p><p>“Will,” sighs Hannibal turning to face him. He lays his head on Will’s chest and finally touches him with his hands. Will kisses him on the forehead. On his cheeks. On his nose. And then finally on his mouth. Affectionate and so, so loving. Hannibal feels adored. </p><p>“Thank you so much baby,” he says warmly. </p><p>Hannibal smiles.</p><p>“Let me take care of you?” asks Will. “I’ll be right back.”</p><p>He drifts, glutted and sore. Will returns with a warm wet towel and cleans his abdomen and chest of come, then his tender hole. He no longer has it in him to blush when Will slips a finger inside him to check if anything is torn. He wipes the sweat from Hannibal’s hair and armpits and back. A cool gel is spread over his ass and thighs. He thinks he hears Will murmur something about aloe vera but he is exhausted. Finally he is raised a little and a straw is pushed into his mouth. Cool, refreshing water fills his throat. He feels a little more awake again.</p><p>“Thank you Will,” he says, placing the glass on the side table. “Come here, please.”</p><p>Will smiles at him so beautifully his heart aches. They embrace and Will raises the soft quilt over them both. He brings Hannibal’s left hand up to his lips, kissing the ring he placed there.</p><p>“Tomorrow, I mark you again, albeit differently.”</p><p>Hannibal shivers.</p><p>“And I, you.”</p><p>“Hannibal,” he whispers and he is reminded of Will’s vows to him as he proposed. His name was the last thing Will wanted to say before he slept. He smiles and presses a kiss to Will’s hair, twining a finger into one of the curls he loves so much.</p><p>They drift into sleep like a boat on the ocean, arms around one another.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come follow me on tumblr @snailmailthings <a href="http://www.snailmailthings.tumblr.com">here</a>! The next fic in the series will involve the actual tattooing so watch out for that!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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